Reckless Creed Read Free

down.
    â€œSon of a bitch,” he heard Wylie say from behind. “Looks like she loaded up her pockets with rocks and walked right into the river.”

3
    C reed kept Grace on her leash, although he exchanged the working one for a retractable that allowed her more freedom. He’d backed her off to a clearing along the river, about ten feet away, where she could enjoy her reward. She chomped down on the pink toy elephant, making it squeak repeatedly, the sound foreign out there amid the buzz of insects and the gentle churn of the water.
    From where he stood he could still see the body downstream. Creed’s job was to help find whatever they were looking for, but he wasn’t a part of the investigation. Once the search was over, he took his dog and stayed out of the way until and unless there was something else that needed to be found.
    A Marine and K9 unit handler, Creed had remained a certified trainer and handler after leaving the military. Hannah managed the business and Creed trained the dogs. In seven years, their facility in the Florida Panhandle had become a multimillion-dollar business. They’d earned a national reputation for their quality training and the success rates of their air-scent dogs. And they didit by rescuing abandoned and discarded dogs and turning them into heroes.
    As he watched Grace fling her toy up into the air and jump to retrieve it, he couldn’t imagine how anyone would abandon such a smart and spirited animal. But then, Creed had seen firsthand enough depravity to last a lifetime.
    He looked back at the young woman’s body. Whether or not he was a part of the investigation, he couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Bobbing in the water, she looked small, almost childlike despite the ballooning jacket.
    Sheriff Wylie had said earlier that her family claimed she might have gotten lost. Did she really intend to go for a walk alone in the forest, then just lose her way? Not impossible. People got lost. It happened all the time, and Creed and his dogs were often called in at such times.
    The Conecuh National Forest covered eighty-four thousand acres between Andalusia, Alabama, and the Florida state line. The Conecuh Trail was twenty-two miles, a trek popular with hikers during the winter and early spring months. But the trail was up in the northeast part of the forest, nowhere near here. In fact, they hadn’t seen anything that resembled a trail for quite some time.
    If Izzy Donner went for a walk in the forest, why did she stray so far off the trail? Did she actually put rocks in her pockets and walk into the river?
    Creed watched Sheriff Wylie and Agent Tabor. Both men were on their cell phones. They stood on the riverbank. Neither attempted to get closer to the body. The sheriff was animated as he talked, waving his arms, pushing his hat back, then jerking thebrim back down low over his brow. Agent Tabor, on the other hand, looked calm and appeared to be doing more listening than talking.
    They were losing sunlight. The moss-draped branches hung over the area, creating long shadows. Creed pulled out his GPS tracker and saved the coordinates. It would make it easier for the recovery team to find this spot whether they came by foot or by boat.
    He reached around into his daypack for Grace’s collapsible bowl and grabbed his flashlight, too. He clipped it onto his belt, then poured water for Grace. She came to the sound, sat, and placed her toy beside her, waiting patiently for a drink. He squatted down to make sure there were no fire ants nearby, then placed the bowl for her. Before he stood back up, Creed noticed a flash of reddish brown under a scrawny cypress bush about five feet away.
    He left Grace to investigate. The shadows made it difficult to see under the brush. He switched on his Maglite as he planted one knee on pine needles a couple feet from the cypress.
    It was a dead bird. The robin lay belly up—its red breast was what had caught